


Birth

by TheBadgeringWitness



Series: The Castle Poltergeist Series [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Gen Fic, HP theory, Hogwarts Founders Era, Inspired by Music, One Shot, try reading this in your favorite narrator's voice!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadgeringWitness/pseuds/TheBadgeringWitness
Summary: I heard the people who lived on the ceilingScream and fight most scarilyHearing that noise was my first ever feelingThat's how it's been all around mePeeves is born.





	Birth

_ 993 A.D. _

Seven years before the first millennium of the common era - roughly nine-hundred and ninety-three years after the death of Christ, according to scholars - there stood a castle. One of many amongst the enormous land, it was atop a hill surrounded by a thick forest full of terrifying beasts, and occupied by people of equally terrifying powers. 

It was a simple structure, sturdy and tall, with narrow windows for archers and large, impenetrable doors that kept out all manner of people who were not welcome. It came to be, however, that many were welcome if they were fit to be as powerful as the castle’s founders. Children and young men and women were picked from many a village and kingdom in what was mostly complete secrecy, and shortly after the harvest in their homelands had been completed, they all gathered at the hill-top castle, which the founders of agreed would be called  _ Hogwarts _ . 

It must be known that the wood surrounding Hogwarts, known then as the Black Forest, was immensely magical. People without magic would often lose themselves inside, if they managed to elude being attacked by any of the beasts that made the wood their home. The trees seemed to shift, normal animals grew and shrank to odd sizes, and any being who possessed even an inkling of power would feel the familiar crackling of magic in the air. It was even said the voices of the dead could be heard, muttering from the treetops when the sun fell beneath the horizon.

Centuries of natural magic had seeped deep into the ground, long before mankind walked there and deigned to take some of its bounties. It was not a surprise to find that the castle of Hogwarts felt like the most magical place on Earth. 

The newcomers to the castle were those called witches and wizards, sorcerers and sorceresses - they were all young magic users, their powers never honed or studied or grown upon before. They entered the castle almost all at once, one night under a full moon after many days of travelling and waiting, and never before did the sheer power of the place feel so incredibly large. One of the founders, Salazar Slytherin, compared it to a cauldron finally coming to a boil. 

Of course, they say a watched cauldron never boils, and an unwatched cauldron will always overflow.

The crowd of newcomers of Hogwarts always remain the same, in terms of feelings. Excitement, anxiousness and worry, fear, frustration, curiosity - it can all be felt, at once, by many of them, days and weeks after they first enter the stone halls. It is no surprise. People are confused, scared, worried, thrilled by the new surroundings, the people, the ideas. Tensions of all kinds were built over such a short time. Untrained magic was let loose unconsciously and unwillingly, all over the place. It had a habit of sticking to walls and objects and tapestries, sometimes causing them to break or warp, but there was no one so attune to the feeling of gathered magic that they noticed it growing among the natural magic of the castle and its people. 

It grew, much like a toxic fungus or a moss, except it was always shifting and gathering in larger and larger chunks, wanting, it seemed, to accumulate in one spot. Just one more spore, just one more new growth, just one more moment over the fire…

One day, an argument burst forth on an upper floor - something about living arrangements and people who behave like asses - and it happened. The cauldron overflowed. The pieces of magic, detached and yet magnetically pulled together somehow, managed to spawn a new being.

The being opened it's eyes - human-like, but as black as the lake on a moonless night - and felt a rush of sensation. It felt the stone it was born from underneath its small human-like body. Felt the air through the damp curtain of black hair that dangled from its head. Felt and saw the strange translucent slime that coated everything in its vicinity and temporarily impaired its senses of smell and taste. 

It felt all of this, but more importantly, it heard the raised voices above. The fighting had escalated to a screaming match. It sensed the angry magic growing denser - it was the first being, and perhaps the only, that can sense such things - and it became seized with a sudden emotion.

Excitement.

It was joyous and curious, the feeling. The being wasted no time in willing itself through the stone above it, somehow managing to float through it whilst being solid, seeking the voices and the magic they spilled. 

Naturally, seeing a head of any kind appear through a stone floor sent the two students running, screaming in fear of the unknown. New magic was left in their stead, and somehow, the new being drew it into itself.

The old magic of the castle remained, of course, but new magic burst forth periodically from it’s inhabitants. The new being had taken upon itself to absorb every fraction, and when there wasn’t any after a short while, it learned to create it simply by appearing out of the walls, pushing over some delicate piece of decor, or talking to the nearest occupant. It soon discovered it could make it’s physical form disappear at will, as well as lift objects too heavy for normal humans to even try.

It was not long before the castle’s young inhabitants were afraid to walk the corridors alone, and more afraid to speak to each other in smaller numbers. The mysterious spectre appeared to be clever, as it not only learned names and faces and facts about the people it spooked, but seemed to pick up the insults some of them had thrown about. So whenever someone wasn’t terrified out of their wits, it was insulted so heavily that the child was either left flustered and sputtering or crying. 

For many days and nights, the founders of Hogwarts debated on what the being was. They all had tried, at one time or another, to track the being down. It seemed to move at it’s leisure, but never stayed in exactly the same place. It was like some sort of ghost. It was strange that it didn’t give any indication of what it was after, if it had any sort of unfinished business or desires left unfulfilled from it’s previous life. It was stranger, still, that while the number of magical accidents had been reduced, there still seemed to be things to fix:  potions no longer boiled over, candles no longer burst or went out of their own accord, and the walls ceased changing color at random, but there was now broken glass and marble, upturned scrolls and tables, and an unusual number of objects, all ranging in size and weight, placed in strange areas. 

It was, at one such debate, that the being appeared before them, drawn by the raised voices. It must have been quite the sight - the being was nothing more than a short man, no taller than some of the young men they taught, as naked as the moment he sprung into being. It took clever words and coaxing to get the mysterious blue-skinned man to sit and explain the reasons behind his small feats of terror and confusion. No one had ever tried to make proper conversation with him before then, so while he bragged and said that he enjoyed all the chaos he made, he seemed to be rather pleased to be talked to. He told them, quite plainly, that he was taking in all the magic the people were providing in the midst of their tantrums.

The four founders thought it over, and after creating a wizard’s robe for him to wear that was very much like one of theirs, they unanimously decided to let him do as he liked, providing no person came to serious harm. After all, he was as much a part of the castle as they were - why else would such a being spring forth from nowhere, only to keep the castle from magical distortion?

**Author's Note:**

> I really think that The Clash’s _Lost in the Supermarket_ fits Peeves as a sort of theme song - at least most of it, if you just look at the face-value of the lyrics rather than the deeper meaning of the song as a whole. I thought it’d be fun to use it to help write about his “birth” without spoiling what he’s really made of for those who read my in-depth Peeves-exploration story, _A Ghost Too Far._
> 
> Speaking of, in AGTF, my OC Dandrane mentions that she pictures Peeves being created by “rising out of the dungeon floor a la _Hellraiser_ ”, referencing the scene where the once-dead and hell-bound Frank Cotton is partially brought back to life by quickly growing out of the attic floor, first by gooey brain, eyes and bones and then gaining some semblance of muscular flesh in a grotesque and amazing display of special effects, all overlaid with an unforgettable music score. I like the idea of that, too, but I’m much more convinced he grew/fell out of the wall fully formed and covered in ectoplasm, like he had burst out of some alien egg… I mean, come on, what else could it be? You expect me to believe he just popped into existence mid-air on day one of Hogwarts’ opening? HA!
> 
> Well, this concludes my One-Shot upload marathon! There will likely be more in the future (I mean, how can there NOT be, I wrote all of these, on and off, in the span of 10 months) but you’ll have to wait a long time, I think, and they’ll be very erratic in terms of time between new ones. If you followed this series all week, I hope you had fun! And if you didn’t, that’s okay, I hope you had fun, too! Thanks for reading, and please leave some feedback! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧


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